Xavier and Alice
by EmmaPrinceton
Summary: An adaptation of Owl Cave's RPG "Richard and Alice", this is a short story that features Richard as Xavier, Barney as David, and Alice as herself. Concept taken from game, written work all original. Rated T for suggestive themes.


**Hi friends, this is a short story I had to write for my creative writing class. It's just over 2,800 words, and I'm pretty proud of it. I absolutely loved the concept of the RPG "Richard and Alice" so I just had to make it into my own little work of fiction. LOZ story is still being worked on (I promise it's in progress!) and also working on an adaptation of "The Shadow of the Colossus". Pretty snazzy!**

**I thought this would be worth uploading, so please read and leave a review commenting on what you thought of my story. Thanks for reading and Happy Holidays. **

**ALSO. LOZ will be back soon as I am almost finished with school, just rushing to finish an art portfolio before deadlines. Thanks for being awesomely patient.**

**SONG SUGGESTION: "In the Water" by Anadel**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Xavier & Alice

By Emma Princeton

I sat on the steel bed, staring at the floor but seeing nothing. The walls were white, the floor was white, and the cell door was transparent. There was a TV hanging directly across from the bed, the screen black and it reflected the fluorescent lights that lit up the large cell. A desk and a computer were perpendicular to the bed and a single power outlet was next to the bed. A door next to the television led to a bathroom.

This was where I was imprisoned – that is, if it could even be called a prison. The luxuries were abnormal. The transparency of the door was abnormal. The controlled temperature was abnormal.

The _warmth_ was abnormal.

The floor where I was being kept had only two cells – the one I as currently in, and the one straight across from me, which had a rather persistent man who insisted in talking to me.

"Hey! I know you can hear me. C'mon, lady."

I turned expressionlessly towards the glass barrier, and watched as the man sat in front of his door. "Jesus, finally!"

I glared at him, but didn't say anything.

"So what are you in here for?"

I sighed and turned back towards the television, staring at nothing.

"We're going to be in here for a while, lady. Might as well get to know each other before we go insane in isolation. I've been in here for just little over a week. At least I think it's been a week. I just guess wh – "

"Alice." I turned my head and looked at the man. "My name is Alice."

"Ah? You _can _talk. The name's Xavier."

I eyed him. "So what do you want?"

He shrugged. "What are you in here for?"

I scoffed. "Murder."

Xavier raised his eyebrows. "You don't seem like the type."

I shook my head. "Does anyone?" I nodded in his direction. "What about you?"

"Desertion. I'm guessing the government doesn't take that too kindly, seeing as I'm locked in a hi-tech underground prison."

I looked away from him and stared at my lap.

"So who'd you kill, anyway? The secretary of defense?"

I smiled sadly, then let it fade. "No one that would be of importance to you."

"Well, you have to have killed someone pretty important for you to be in here. What's your story, Alice?"

The ceiling suddenly looked very interesting. I stared off into the distance and I could feel the stinging cold blizzard whipping against my face, the numbness of my feet as I tumbled through the knee-high snow, and a small boy cradled in my arms…

* * *

The blizzard was beginning to get incredibly strong, and I staggered through the knee-high snow, clutching my five-year-old son to my chest, who coughed violently and rippled shivers. The splintering wind pierced my ears and I shook my head, chills running down my spine with the high-pitched tune.

I squinted, and saw that beyond the fluttering white sheets was a silhouette of a building, and I sped up my pace, despite me not being able to feel below my torso. The numbness ached with every step, but with every step we got closer to shelter.

Finally, after three minutes of eternity, we managed to reach the porch of the wooden house, the wooden planks underneath my feet creaking with age. I grasped the frozen door handle as best as I could while holding my child tighter, careful not to drop him. The door opened easily, screeching and echoing throughout the volume of the house.

The empty resonance bounced off the walls, and I stepped in, grateful for the newfound warmth, even if it was a slight upward change in temperature. I stepped further into the house, cringing as the soggy wood croaked. On the left hand side was a threshold leading to a raided kitchen, with the cabinets and drawers wide open and stripped clean. On the wall opposite to the main entrance was an open bathroom. There was a staircase on the far right wall, collapsed in the center, making it impossible to reach the second floor, which I presumed was where a bedroom was.

I lay my son down on the floor, his back leaning against the side of the staircase, and took off my parka to cover his body.

I immediately headed towards the bathroom, reeking of feces and something else that I could not differentiate. Above the sink was a white medicine cabinet, and I forced it open, hopeful of finding any type of medicine, but was not surprised to find it empty, save for a pair of toothpicks, a razor blade, and an empty tube of toothpaste.

I slammed the cabinet shut and exhaled exasperated, a gust of dirt landing on my tongue, grainy and dry. I hurried back to my son and kneeled, clutching him to my chest once more and I felt his little hands grasp the back of my neck as another violent cough shook through him.

I looked up the top of the staircase and glared at the black profoundness. I glanced back down at my little boy.

I had to figure out a way to get up there.

"David, I'm gonna look around the house to see if I can find a way to get up to the second floor, alright?" I whispered.

David didn't respond, and snored gently as he became overwhelmed by the desire to sleep.

I shook him. "No, David. Stay awake."

He whimpered and he responded in a hoarse voice. "Mommy, I'm tired…"

"I know. Just sit tight, alright?"

"Yes, Mommy."

I got up, leaving the parka with David and went outside, stepping right off the porch to get a whole view of the front of the house. The porch had a cover, and above the cover was a boarded window, only with slight cracks. If I could push some snow off of the cover, I could kick down the planks and get inside. But it was too high up for me to reach and I couldn't climb on anything.

I looked around, seeing only white but looked for at least a shed that might have a ladder.

In the distance, I as able to distinguish an elongated shape; some parts of it were protruding at the top and ended with a triangular shape. At the top of it all was a cross.

I ran inside and approached David. "Hey, I found another building close by. Do you think you can sit tight while I look if there's something in there?"

He merely nodded weakly and struggled to keep his eyes open.

* * *

I came back to reality suddenly when Xavier looked at me with a strange expression.

"What?"

He hesitated for a moment, and then shook his head. "Alice, let's get out of here."

I glared at him. "And how do you suppose we'll do that?"

"We can set the cells on fire. That'll activate the fire alarm and the doors will have to open."

My eyebrows sowed together. "What do we do?"

Xavier smiled. "There should be a power outlet somewhere in your cell. Get some water and throw it on there."

"Okay."

"But don't stop. Keep talking to me."

I looked back up to the ceiling, recalling where I left off.

* * *

I approached the church, shielding myself from the blizzard that came directly towards me. The front doors were immense, and had two large handles. I kicked the doors and they flew open with the wind. I hurried inside and closed them behind me, brushing off the snow as I walked down a dimly lit isle. At the end of the isle was a glass mosaic of Christ, brilliant yellow rays coming from his hands, illuminating the inside of the building.

I spotted a photograph sprawled out in the middle of the isle, and I picked it up. It was faded, and the faces were undistinguishable. It was obviously a family, but all their faces were blurred out. On the back was a number, but it wasn't a date. I shoved it in my back pocket and looked around.

It was a small church. Only the altar, ten pews, a confession booth, and a door could be seen. I went to the door and opened it – it was a supply closet with nothing but five cans of canned peaches and some candles. I shoved it all in the heavy backpack with all our supplies.

"It's alright, you can take it all."

I swirled around in alarm and took on a defensive stance. I looked around for a weapon, and spotted a conveniently placed revolver on the altar. I grasped it with both hands tightly.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

The man's voice was coming from the confession booth. I stepped closer with caution, and slipped into the confession booth.

We were separated by a wall with a little square, which was curtained. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice somber.

"I don't know," I said honestly.

"Where did you come from?"

"Somewhere."

"Tell me your story."

And so I did.

* * *

I lay awake, unable to sleep, and all because of what the man in the confession booth in the chapel had said a week before. Without even knowing who he was, I was able to tell him everything – all my doubts, my fears, what I thought was right. He didn't say anything when I said I didn't believe in God. He acted as if I hadn't even said anything.

By the way he spoke, it was obvious he wasn't a minister or a preacher or whatever religious leeches call them these days. He had revealed to me that the wrecked house in which David and I were currently using for shelter used to be his, and I asked him about the second floor. He didn't say anything for a long time, until after a few minutes he said, 'what about it' and I asked him if there was any medicine up there.

Of course he said no. I didn't know what type of delusional thought had crossed my mind as to why there could even be a slight chance of there being free medicine, _anywhere,_ in the frozen hell which had the shame of being called earth. But he did say he used to trade humans to a local notorious gang called the 'Polar Bears' in exchange for common medicine and canned fruit. He apologized for not knowing me sooner; otherwise he would have 'given' me some medicine.

The Polar Bears were widely known not only for their horde of endless supplies, but also for the smell of charred, seasoned human flesh coming from their camp, only a few miles away from where the abandoned house was. David and I could smell it everyday, and he would ask me what it was; I could never answer him.

I would do anything for my son, anything. I would go to the Polar Bears and ask them for medicine, and they could take my arms, my legs, whatever part of me they wanted, in exchange for a medicine that could cure pneumonia. But it was too risky. I couldn't risk David losing his mother for such a careless choice, especially since I didn't know the full capabilities of such dangerous people, although I could already imagine.

I turned on my side, stroking David's hair as he coughed violently against the floor, shivering with the cold blizzard that entered through the shattered windows.

I stared longingly at my little boy's body, remembering when he used to be warm and safe within my embrace.

When I came back into the house he was completely asleep, hardly breathing and blue. I had tried to wake him up, but he refused to.

I couldn't do anything for him now. The snow piled higher day-by-day and even canned food grew scarcer. I hugged him closer to me and kissed his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, his lips, his head, his everything. I felt tears escape my eyes and plop to the floor. My breathing started getting faster and I started sobbing. "I love you so much, baby, so much. Mommy loves you so much. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. Mommy loves you." He smiled in his sleep and I sobbed harder. I kissed him once more, and I stood up.

I wasn't going to find medicine.

Not here, not anywhere.

Especially not for pneumonia.

Sweat rolled down my forehead and into my mouth, the salty bitterness of desperation settling on my tongue. My heart raced and ached in my chest, fighting against what I wanted and what I should do. I loved my son. I would do anything in the world for him, anything.

So my heart ached with dread as I fingered the revolver in my pocket, which I had found in the church.

Trembling, I took the gun out and cocked it, pointing it at David's head.

My bottom lip shook and I cried out violently.

The striking kick of the trigger pierced my ears. A red wetness splashed against my open lips, and the flavor of salt and rust was overwhelming. I collapsed onto the ground and held David in my arms as trails of tears snaked their way down my face, along with snot and blood.

The combination of flavors made me feel nothing but angst – nothing but hoarse solitude and forced frustration.

I had one choice and carried it through, and the taste of bitter solace washed over me as I embraced my son, covered in a sheet of scarlet.

He had finally stopped coughing.

* * *

I coughed as smoke filled the cell, covering my face as the flames licked the wall and the bed. Xavier had done the same and was now cornered against his own door. I covered my face with my shirt and the crease of my elbow.

"What now, genius?! The doors aren't opening!" I screamed to Richard.

He turned to me. "Just wait for it!"

The fire alarm started blinking and the doors hissed, opening automatically.

We both stumbled out of our cells coughing, and ran down the narrow hallway to get to the nearest elevator.

There were no guards, and there was no sound.

Breathing heavily, we stepped inside the elevator and pressed the button to go to the top floor, and the doors closed.

Richard faced me. "So, that man that you talked to in the confession booth?"

I eyed him suspiciously. "What about him?"

He looked down and scratched his head. "That…that was me, Alice."

I said nothing.

"I'm real sorry about your kid."

I shook my head. "I'm fine. Let's just get out of here."

Richard pursed his lips. He reached into his back pocket and took out a gun.

Alice jumped back. "Where the hell did you get that?"

He looked at my guiltily. "I haven't been entirely honest with you, Alice." He took the gun in both hands, pointing it towards the floor, getting more cautious as we approached the top floor. "I actually worked for this prison, and then I deserted. They found me, and I guess they found you, too. This was supposed to be a haven from the freeze, but it all went to hell…"

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. He immediately pointed the gun out and scanned the area, but there was no one.

At least, no one that was alive.

The walls were covered in red, and bodies were everywhere.

"C'mon." we went to the last elevator, which had a keypad, and he cursed under his breath. "Dammit! I can't remember the pass code. I had it written down somewhere…"

I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the photograph I had picked up at the church, and punched in the number written down.

"Let's go, Xavier."

We only went up for a few minutes, and the doors opened to the frozen wasteland.

There was nothing to be seen.

Xavier turned to me. "Alice, come with me. We can go to the Polar Bears and live there, we can –"

"No, Xavier."

I stole the gun from his hands and pointed it at him. "This is where we go separate ways." His eyes widened in alarm.

I had no one left in the world. This man was nothing to me. I was a murderer and I would always be. I finally knew that.

"Goodbye, Xavier."

The familiar ring of the shot was carried out by the blizzard, and I finally felt at peace.

A scarlet river pooled out of the bullet hole in my head, and as I fell to the ground, a coffin of white encased me. I closed my eyes and let myself become part of the wasteland.

Dear Xavier, this is all I should have told you:

I should have never been a mother.

Keep on surviving,

Alice


End file.
